I do not own any of the Asterix characters, Rene Goscinny and Albert Uderzo do. I write only for my own enjoyment and the enjoyment of others.

...

35 BC (Before Caesar)*. Deep within the Forest of Carnutes...

The smell wasn't exactly pleasant. In fact, it was downright pungent. It made you want to wrinkle your nose and cover your mouth; expelling all air from your lungs. Sure, you wouldn't be able to breath, but that was preferable to the foul stench that wafted from the dark, ominous cauldron. The brew bubbled and stirred, raising a frighteningly large amount of steam and yellow colored smoke. To most people, this would be alarming, to say the least. After all, one does not purposefully soil the air of their home with such filthy a pollutant...Unless, of course, you are a druid. If that is the case, it is not only your job, but your hobby, to participate in such an odd, distasteful ritual. And that was a fact that Getafix was quickly learning.

The bearded fellow peered down at the glowing liquid with obvious disapproval. It shouldn't be yellow. This can't be right. He quickly moved to a shelf of books, fingering each title until he found the one he was looking for, and hurriedly snatched it down. The volume was dusty, not from disuse, but from the various powders that had settled upon it throughout the day. This room was a laboratory; a room given to the science and magic of all the druids living in Carnutes. Explosions, smoke, and a general assortment of airborne magic powder was not uncommon in this room; deep beneath the ground in a hidden labyrinth of druidic abodes. It was here that druids from all over came to live and work; to try and better their skills and invent new and wondrous spells.

But at the moment, Getafix felt anything but skilled or wondrous as he poured over the faded Celtic scrawls on the water stained parchment of the ancient book. Needless to say, he was frustrated. Beyond frustrated; he was just about ready to throw the volume away in an uncharacteristic fit of anger. Only his grim determination kept him from doing so.

The letters were extremely hard to decipher. Not because Getafix didn't know how to read them, but because they were so blotched and poorly preserved that he simply couldn't make out all the words. It was like some ink-happy dope had suddenly decided to dance his pen across the page in a completely random manner, only getting in an intelligible symbol every two or three sentences. It was like trying to read the doodlings of an infant child.

It made completely, and utterly, no sense.

With a sigh, Getafix closed the book, causing dust to puff out from the musky pages. He set it down on the nearby table with a thump and then sat down heavily on a worn, wooden stool. He was tired. No, that didn't even begin to explain how he felt. He was upset; the pent up anger sapping away his energy. But he couldn't stop now. Not now. Not when he was so close to-

"Getafix?"

Uh, oh...

Getafix turned to the deep, curious voice that had suddenly drifted to him from the doorway. There, standing just barely within the yellow glow of the cauldron, stood the Venerable Chief of the Druids. He, just like Getafix, wore the typical white robe of the druids, tied about his waist with a strong cord of rope. And, like all the official druids, he carried a golden sickle, carefully slipped between the cord and his side. It was the only item in appearance that Getafix did not share with the man. They both had white hair, and a long white beard; even though Getafix was a good many years younger. They both wore the same attire, and even looked alike, to a degree. But Getafix had no golden sickle attacked to his side. That was something he'd have to earn.

Something he hoped to earn by the next evening.

Putting on as casual a smile as he could, even though he felt as though he had been caught with his hand in the cauldron, Getafix greeted his mentor. "Good evening, O Venerable Druid. I hope you are well?" It was possible that the ancient fellow had come to mix a potion for his rheumatism. Or to fix some sleeping powder.

The Venerable Druid lifted an eyebrow in suspicion. "I am well. It is not uncommon for me to wander the halls of our earthbound fortress in the dark of night. It is my right and my duty. But you, Getafix; what reason can you give for being up at such a late hour?" He fixed his student with a look that demanded an answer, but also gleamed with a very slight hint of amusement. He wrinkled his nose at the smell in the air; craning his neck to see past the guilty younger man and get a glimpse at the offending brew. "And what, may I ask, is that?"

Getafix sighed. There was no point trying to talk his way out of this mess. He looked even guiltier as he answered. "I...I was practicing for tomorrow's ceremony."

"Practicing?" His mentor looked confused. "But you have already mastered the spell I taught you. You should not need to practice."

"It's not that spell, O Venerable Druid. It's...It's a brew of my own."

That caught the elder's interest. "Of your own?" He came forward, dipping his head low to get a better look at the churning yellow liquid that had congealed into a lumpy goo. He seemed unaffected by the strong stench, and actually reached out a finger to taste it.

"Oh, don't do that!" Getafix cried, taking hold of his teacher's wrist before he could touch the foul stuff.

"Why not?"

"It's...not right," the younger man mumbled, quickly removing his hand from the most revered druid in the land.

"Not right?" the elder asked, and he almost seemed unsurprised. "How do you mean?"

Getafix went and got the dusty old volume from the table, opening it to the page that, for the past three hours, had stumped him. He turned so the Venerable Druid could see. "I found this old book of Celtic spells. In it, I came across this one brew for strengthening the elderly."

"A practice that we use quite often. What is so special about it?"

"This one is a little bit stronger," Getafix continued, tracing the garbled words with his finger. "It should be more efficient than the potion we use now."

His mentor looked from the crusted book to his student's face. "But you said that you were making your own brew. Surely, this does not qualify."

"But it will," the younger druid insisted. "I'm trying to concoct an even more efficient potion. One that will enhance the power of strength."

"To what extent?"

"I...don't know yet," Getafix confessed. He rapped the open book with his knuckles, obviously discouraged. "This volume is so old, I can't read all the ingredients. And, like mathematics, one can not make it to the next level of efficiency until one has mastered the last. If I can't figure this one out, I can't take the next step to create my own concoction." He gave the book a hard shake. "And I can't figure this out!"

The Venerable Druid took notice of his pupil's mood, before giving Getafix a smile. "It is late. Often times that which seems complicated to us in the dark hours of the night become clear with the light of day. And an appropriate amount of rest, Getafix." He lay a hand an the younger's shoulder. "Come, tomorrow is another day. Do the spell I taught you at the ceremony tomorrow. You will pass from student to official druid, and then you will have a lifetime to blow our minds away with your genius."

Getafix turned to protest to his mentor's comment on his intelligence, but then he saw the kind, almost teasing grin on the Venerable Druid's bearded face. The frustration and tension in his back and shoulders that he had been suffering the past, grueling three hours, suddenly fell away; leaving him more relaxed, but also extremely tired. With a nod of his head, Getafix extinguished the flames beneath the cauldron before bidding his teacher goodnight and heading for his room.

The Venerable Druid was right. Let tomorrow be what it would. For now, he'd stick with what he already knew. The unknown could wait a few more days to be discovered.

And besides, tomorrow was going to be a busy day.

...

*As you may already be aware, my readers, 35 BC is the same year that our dear friends Asterix and Obelix were born.

I realize this chapter is very, very short; but I've gotten myself so excited about starting a new Asterix story that I simply HAD to at least get it started. I would like to thank all the people who helped me gather information, some of which I used in this chapter, and some of which will be used in later chapters. Please review and let me know what you think. :) THANKS!